Chapter 38 #2
I look over at him, and he smirks. “You will never be a secret again,” he whispers next to my ear.
Inside we enter a grand ballroom, with low romantic lighting, and an orchestra playing a waltz to urge attendees onto the dance floor. He twirls me expertly out onto the floor rather than go to find our table. Not once does his gaze depart from me the entire time we move to the “Blue Danube” waltz.
“We don’t have to stay all night. I just want to give you a fairytale evening, and how could I do that without taking you to a ball? But we’re going to leave before dinner, because I’ve made other arrangements just for the two of us,” he continues.
“Do I get a hint?” I ask intrigued.
“Where’s the magic in that?” he answers my question with a question.
I roll my eyes. “Fine, keep your secrets, but we better not have to leave the ball in a pumpkin.”
He spins me around for a few more songs, but the allure of the evening starts to wane as my feet begin to ache.
“Looks like it’s midnight already,” he teases as he scoops me off of my feet. “I bet Cinderella didn’t actually mind losing a shoe.”
He carries me all the way to the car where it waits out front, and in no time it whisks us away to a small helipad not far from the gala.
“A helicopter?” I ask.
“How else do you expect us to get to the forest in the southern part of the state?”
I feel both of my eyebrows rise as I look at him with what I think is the most obvious response. “Most people would drive.”
“Then let me introduce myself.” He bends forward at the waist, extending his arm in an exaggerated gentlemanly gesture. “Prince Charming, not a beast nor an ordinary man.”
After flying for a little less than an hour the helicopter touches down in a small clearing in the middle of the dense Oregon wilderness. There’s a trail of fairy lights illuminating a pathway through the thick trees and vegetation.
As I follow him down the path, I try to steel my spine and remind myself that I need to see proof before I fall right back into his arms like we were.
I follow him over to a suspension bridge that climbs up twenty feet into the air.
It ends at a little bungalow-like structure wrapped around a majestic ancient cedar tree.
The treehouse has a wraparound porch, perfect for staring out into the forest, or watching the stars.
The lights are on inside, and I’m expecting a full spread of some kind of gourmet meal, but instead I find a regular picnic.
“I do listen to you sometimes. I figured you’d rather have your favorite sandwich than some fussy meal. I brought you an overnight bag that’s in the bedroom up the ladder if you want to go change,” he offers.
He’s so gentle, and while I love the over the top romance, there’s still something missing between us. If I’m being honest, I miss his bossy side. Why does it have to be one or the other with him?
“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours, baby girl?”
“I love everything you’ve done tonight, but—”
“But what?” he asks.
I can’t look at him when I say this. “I miss parts of the way we were. I don’t want to go back to watching you hurting yourself to play, or relying on drugs to mask the pain, but that doesn’t mean that everything we had was bad.”
“What specifically do you miss?” His voice has taken on that low, rumbling timber it gets when he’s about to turn all domineering.
I look up at him, and immediately I’m ready to drop to my knees and let him lead me anywhere.
“I miss trusting you. Handing over everything to you and believing you’ll never let me fall,” I admit.
He cradles my face with his large hand. “If you fall, it’ll be for me. I’ll never hurt you again.”
“I told you before that I liked the way we…uh…you know,” I stammer.
“Fuck? Do you miss having me inside of you, baby girl?”
I nod.
“Say the words, Sloane. Tell me you want my cock and I’ll give it to you.”
My mouth falls open and my cheeks burn. I can’t say that. Not even to him. This is why I prefer when he takes over. Only then can I let go and not be stuck in my head.
“Yes, okay, I miss being with you. I want you inside of me,” I admit.
He shakes his head. “Those aren’t the words, but it’s only fair for me to go first. I love you, Sloane. I think I’ve loved you from the first moment I saw you, but I was too damn stubborn to realize until after I’d already pushed you into that stupid agreement.”
I smile up at him. “I love you too.”
“If I remember correctly you told me once that Prince Charming is boring. Maybe the problem is that you need both the prince and the beast.”
My body vibrates with anticipation. “Yes, as long as both of those are you.”
Knox puts his hands on my arms, and slides them up to my shoulders. “That’s enough talking.”
He spins me around and pushes until I’m leaning on the back of a chair. “Mmm, I like you bent over at my mercy like this.”
His calloused fingers grab the zipper at the back of my dress and he pulls it down until the silver fabric pools around my feet.
Then I feel those same rough hands gently run down my back.
His deft fingers unclasp my bra with one hand, and in seconds I’m bent in front of him in nothing but a skimpy pair of black lace underwear, if three strings can be called that, and my heels.
When he leans over my back I can feel the lapels of his tux jacket tickle my sides, and the buttons of his shirt press into my spine. “You are mine,” he growls into my ear.
“Yes,” I sigh in return.
“Then show me,” he demands, and spins me to face him as he rises.
He walks us around the chair then stops to undress in front of it.
I’m mesmerized by the sight of him. Every piece of clothing he discards without a care reveals more of the chords of muscle he’s honed over his sixteen years playing professional hockey.
Knox certainly lives up to the name, Hard Knox, but not in the way his fans meant it.
In less than a minute he’s carelessly tossed aside a designer tux. Now my stomach is clenching for a different reason, although the sight of him is still eliciting a riot of butterflies. He sits in the chair and stares at me expectantly.
How exactly am I supposed to show him that I’m his? I start to drop to my knees, but he shakes his head.
“Need a hint?” he asks amused.
I glare at him. At least he thinks this is funny. Doesn’t he know this is why I prefer to be led? There’s little chance of rejection when you’re following directions.
His big hands span my waist, and he pulls me to straddle his lap. Those three strings are little barrier for him and snap easily with the smallest effort.
My naked breasts sway in front of his face with the way I’m perched over him, and he takes advantage of the position by sucking one aching bud into his mouth before lavishing the same attention on the other one.
Then he leans back, and places his arms flat on the armrests. “Show me how much you’ve missed me.”
Suddenly, my shyness evaporates. His cock is hard, and weeping pre-cum from the tip. I know he’s used to having a lot of sex, at least with me, so the last several weeks have had to be difficult for him. I have no doubt that there’s been no one else since I left either.
What’s more, I love him. He’s it for me, and I can see how much he loves me in his deep whiskey eyes. My hands slide into his hair as I start to push down on his rigid cock. His breath hitches, and I enjoy the power I’m finding in torturing him with pleasure.
He doesn’t take over, which must be a struggle for him, but I can see the effort in the way his fingers dig into the chair.
We both exhale once I’ve taken him completely inside me.
With my hands still gripping his hair, I pull his mouth to mine and kiss him senseless as I start to roll my hips on his lap.
I keep up the rhythm, one that has him teetering somewhere in purgatory, until his control snaps and his hands land on my hips.
“I think you like driving me crazy,” he says, with his head thrown back.
“Just a little,” I say breathless.
He moves me faster and in minutes we are both groaning and fighting for breath. The tendons in his neck strain with his effort to hold on for me.
“Baby girl, I need you to get there, because I’ve been without you for too long, and I’m not going to last.”
“Then come with me,” I say against his mouth and fall with him.
We hold each other as our hearts start to slow and our breathing returns to normal.
He pulls me tight against his chest, and I can feel a trembling in his muscles. After a long pause, he starts to speak. “I know I’m ready for things that you aren’t. I’m not going to push you to catch up to me. I just want one promise.”
“What is it?” I ask.
“Just promise we’ll be together in the end,” he says. There’s a hint of vulnerability in his voice.
“It’ll be you and me forever. We’ll have it all. The marriage, the family. I promise, I won’t make you wait too long,” I tell him.
He kisses me sweetly. “Don’t you know it already? I’ve been waiting my whole life for you. I can wait longer with you. As long as this story ends with you and me together, I’m in for all the chapters in between.”